


The Joys Of Forever

by Oaklin



Series: Forever Everything [30]
Category: International Wrestling Syndicate, Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Blasphemy, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, aggressive affection, also regular angst, obligatory Kevin Steen warning, poor Beef, stealth angst, stealth romance, vague allusion to 'the Bear'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:58:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oaklin/pseuds/Oaklin
Summary: The lights never shined so bright.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello!
> 
> Man, okay. So, this is fucked. And deceptively long. It all just kinda sprawled out over WAY too much space, like a weird written octopus. Fair warning, this is probably really hard to read and really weird to digest and I dunno what Kevin is even trying to say here. Well, that's not true, I get it, it just makes very little sense because we all know he could always just...?
> 
> Ug. Never mind. We all know that's not going to happen.
> 
> Prepare for history echoing the future. Yes, they have been doing this for some twelve years. In their defense, they've gotten much less sloppy as the years have gone by. I tried to clean it up a bit, as the actual event was much more chaotic than what I've written here. I should know, I was there. Wasn't supposed to be, but that is a whole different, overly complicated story that I won't even get into right now.
> 
> Bonus points to anyone who can guess what pivotal moment in their careers this is :)

In-ring chemistry is an odd thing.

(wondrous really)

- _right_ -

It was hard to tell how shit a match one would have with another wrestler, until the actual match itself happened.

(some things you just gotta **test** )

- _sure_ -

At the same time, you could never tell if the person you were fighting would turn out to be the best opponent of your life.

(always wondered if there was a concrete way to tell beforehand)

- _one would think, the same way you tell for all other things of **that** nature_ -

“Holy shit!”

Even the veterans had no helpful explanations.

(which doesn’t make _any_ sense)

- _makes **perfect** sense if you're not an **idiot**_ -

Not that he had ever asked anyone.

(obviously)

- _right. no need to ask_ -

Don’t ask stupid questions, you won’t get stupid answers, after all.

“Good fucking god!”

Not necessary. He didn’t need to ask anyone _why_.

(right)

- _sure_ -

Or **how**.

(how isn’t really the **issue** )

- _isn't **really** an issue at all_ -

Or **_when_**.

(when?)

- _already **happened** , so **when** is sort of **irrelevant**_ -

None of that mattered. Not really. Not in any way that was actionable.

(well, it matters _sometimes_ )

- _ **all** the time. **always**_ -

“Aw! That was so close! Goddamn!”

Which means that it was _irrelevant_.

(because if it wasn’t, there would be something he could **do** about it)

- _some **action** to take_ -

Something to be _gained_.

(something that could be **learned** )

- _or taught_ -

If any of this shit mattered, then there would be some way to quantify it.

(not sure anyone should _ever_ figure out the formula, to be honest)

- _oh fuck, can you **imagine** if in-ring chemistry could be manufactured? **hell no**_ -

“Man, that is fucking amazing!”

So, all in all, in-ring chemistry is a complicated subject that no one really could figure out, or talk about.

(especially when everyone has a different opinion about it)

- _good, bad, useless_ -

**_Sami_ ** would tell you that in-ring chemistry was a _magical_ thing of **beauty** and **_smiles_ ** or some other worthless horse-shit that was pure lip-service and meant nothing to anyone who mattered.

(always with the fucking **cheerful bullshit** )

- _in **his** nature. **is his** nature_ -

Kevin could care less what Sami thought about the subject, to be honest.

( ** _not_ ** anymore qualified to talk about it than anyone else)

- _he **wants** so bad_ -

“Hey Kevin! Are you even fucking **_watching_ ** this shit?”

Sami clearly wanted everything to be black and white, at all times.

(everything has to be dumbed down)

- _everything is simple to **him**_ -

“Yeah. It’s great.” Kevin says, side-eyeing Beef and his wide-eyed euphoria.

Well, less wide-eyed given his matching black eyes. And the scratches.

“The precision! The athleticism! The ferocity!”

”Yeah.” Kevin agrees, leaning forward and resting his elbow on his knee, running his other hand through his shower-damp hair.

(so stupid)

- _so gullible_ -

“Even the fucking crowd is into them! They’ve been into them the whole way through!”

(right)

- _sure_ -

“Yeah they’re-” Kevin glances through the gap in the curtain, squinting briefly.

(can barely see. wish they would _move_ )

- _blocking the doorway like the buffoons they are_ -

“Oh my god!” Beef screams at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking at the end like he is reliving puberty. Kevin looks down, squeezing his hand into a fist in his hair as the harsh sound of flesh slamming against the mat reverberates around the building.

Beef seems to forget Kevin exists. He hobbles back over to the curtain, pushing and shoving at the other wrestlers grouped there. Kevin watches them as they all practically fall through the curtain, desperately clawing at each other for a good view.

Kevin can’t see anything now, even if he strains his neck.

(assholes)

- _mine_ -

His fingers slide down the damp strands of his hair, the moisture preventing his grasping fingers from pulling it out by the clump. Kevin breathes in roughly and leans back, rocking and slamming his boots down far too loudly on the floor, hissing deeply in the back of his throat.

(fuck _this_ shit)

- ** _mine_** -

Kevin lurches to his feet, ignoring the way Beef turns to give him one of his patented wary, dumbass idiot looks. Which looks even more pathetic now that Beef has big, ugly gashes all over his stupid face.

(always in the fucking **way** )

- _where_ -

Kevin can’t bring himself to just sit the fuck back down.

( _wait_ )

- ** _want_** -

Kevin - ** _needs_** -

( **shit** )

- _just go the fuck **over** **there** and_ -

“Hey! Ow!”

Kevin barely glances at one of the dumb ass kids in his way, wordlessly grabbing him by the back of the shirt and jerking him backwards-

(does he even _have_ a goddamn name?)

- _does it **matter?**_ -

(fuck _no_ )

-before taking the kids position, tantalizingly closer to his destination.

Beef wisely moves back, reaching out an unsteady, bruised hand and grabbing an enraptured Franky, pulling him back as he moves away from the curtain.

“Hey, easy man. Just relax-”

“Kevin my good friend! Do you see this glorious piece of combat mastery before us-!”

Kevin doesn’t even acknowledge Beef’s raspy plea. Even Franky’s words, spoken at his usual booming volume, are had to focus on. They slowly fade out, the words becoming just vague white noise to Kevin’s ears.

(all that i _**ever** _ hear is-)

- _all **we** should **ever** hear_ -

- ** _forever_** -

Kevin wonders if his newfound deafness should worry him.

Except he can hear _other_ things just **fine**.

- _need_ -

Very **_specific_ ** other things.

- ** _need_** -

Kevin closes his eyes-

(idiot. you came up here to **feel** it)

- ** _want_** -

-against the roar of the crowd and the grunts of pain and exertion.

- ** _mine_** -

He feels, rather than sees, a pin attempt and finds himself snapping his eyes open. He feels rooted to the spot as he stares in sudden, abject, edge-of-his-seat excitement at the shaky, thrown together ring.

One.

Kevin inhales sharply, his fingers trembling, the curtain bunched in his hands straining as he pulls at it in anxiety.

(fuck)

- _get up_ -

Two.

He swallows against the sudden tightness in his throat, a deeply unpleasant feeling rising in his gut.

( _this_ is **not** how it's _**suppose** _ to go)

- _get **up**_ -

Thr-

The tasseled, squirmy idiot manages to get an exhausted, sweaty shoulder up, lurching out from under Pierre's girth like a shinning beacon of determination.

(stupidity)

- ** _mine_** -

Kevin releases a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

(it’s-)

- ** _so much_** -

(yeah)

Pierre sags, rolling over to the side and gasping on the mat beside his opponent.

Neither of the wrestlers move for a moment and Kevin suddenly can’t breath again.

He wonders, briefly, why he likes wrestling at all.

(is it _always_ like this?)

- ** _forever_** -

Sami moves first, coughing a bit and attempting to roll onto his side.

(fuck)

- _oh_ -

Kevin’s not sure why that tiny movement causes his heartbeat kick up about a thousand fucking notches, making him wince at the sensation, as it wracks his body.

Sami can’t quite get it together enough to move that much though, so he seems to give up on trying. Instead, he flops back over onto his back, closing his eyes against the spotty stage lights before turning to squint at Pierre.

A moment passes, just a little, brief moment.

(just one)

- _all it takes_ -

Kevin finds the scene hard to watch, resisting the urge to close his eyes against the bright light as Sami’s lips curl up into a soft, completely-at-odds-with-the-situation _smile_.

Somehow, the blood fails to make it any less **beautiful**.

Or **_blinding_**.

Pierre slowly smiles back, the movement sluggish, but there. He reaches out, pushing lightly at Sami's shoulder.

Something seems to get communicated that Kevin can't _understand_ -

- _waitwait **wait**_ -

-because a heartbeat later the two wrestlers are struggling to their feet, spitting blood to the side and staggering into an approximation of an upright position.

There is a moment of gesturing and what Kevin assumes are playful taunts, if the mischievous look he can barely see peeking out from under the mask, is any indication.

Pierre gestures at Sami and says something, the smile turning wry and a smug look creeping into his eye.

Whatever it is he said, it makes Sami plant his hands on his hips and look down, the smile on his face turning bashful. He kicks at the filthy mat and Kevin swears he can almost see a tinge of red under the mask.

- ** _lie_** -

Kevin's heart hurts for some reason.

(the fuck)

- _why_ -

The curtain in his curled fist makes a long, agonized tearing sound. Startled, he releases the tattered fabric from his grasp, more surprised than is warranted, given the relatively mild situation. It doesn't rip all the way though, he just apparently managed to tear the top corner down a bit.

Kevin backs away from the doorway, eyeing the curtain like it just threatened his life, shooting furtive glances at the remnants of the match-

(the _way_ they circle each other)

- _ **gently** slapping at each other like they're not fucking **fighting**_ -

-until the curtain falls completely back in the doorway, blocking his view once more.

(the **shit** )

(was _**that**_ )

Kevin runs a hand over his face, drawing in what is not at all a comforting breath and trying to pull his mind into something resembling a functioning human brain.

- _goddamn **him**_ -

...it doesn't work very well for several heartbeats.

- ** _mine_** -

Kevin backs away from the curtain some more. The curtain is _bad_ and he doesn’t **care** about that **_stupid_ ** match anyway.

Kevin forgets why he even went over there.

(was _trying_ to have a goddamn reflective moment on the **intricacies** of **_wrestling_** )

Kevin slams himself back down on his bench on the far side of the room, ignoring the wary looks he gets as he moves.

- ** _want_** -

The crowd is singing now, their thunderous voices shaking the building with a long, proud anthem of their appreciation.

And slowly, though Kevin wonders why that particular sound finds his ears, two distinct voices join the cacophony, rising along with the crowd.

It is loud.

(and)

Joyous.

( _and_ )

- _triumphant_ -

( **and** )

So full of **_everything_** -

(full of light)

- _love_ -

**Life**.

- _happiness_ -

Full of **everything** that makes _Sami_ , _**Sami**_.

(full of **_everything_ ** that _we_ will **never** be)

- ** _forever_** -

Kevin _breathes_.

(it _**hurts**_ )

Why does it **hurt?**

- _ **everything** hurts_ -

Kevin hears a gasp. He doesn’t need to look up to know that someone-

(probably Beef)

(because of fucking **course** it would be _his_ stupid ass)

-has crept back to the curtain.

He glances up briefly, just long enough to see blood tinged blond hair out of the corner of his eye. Kevin sneers at no one in particular, reaching over and snatching up his wrist tape out of his bag.

Beef makes another muffled gasping sound in the back of his throat. Something dramatic must be happening out in the ring, as the song is reaching a crescendo and the crowd sounds almost euphoric.

Kevin feels an almost irresistible urge to go back to the curtain, for some reason.

- _ **some** reason, alright_ -

He keeps his eyes firmly on the skin of his wrist disappearing under the tape.

“Uh, Kevin?"

Kevin nods in Eddy’s direction, not bothering to look up from his task.

“Why are you taping up? You already-"

Kevin does raise his eyes now, looking up and giving Eddy a quizzical look.

Eddy just watches him intently, for a long moment, head cocked to the side and a strangely calculating look on his face.

Finally, after a long moment, Eddy shrugs and gestures briefly in Kevin direction like he is waving off an irksome fly.

“Never mind. Carry on."

(plan on it)

“I don’t need your permission to do anything Eddy. Shut the fuck up." Kevin mutters, clearing his throat against the rough edge to his voice, shaking his head a bit and frowning.

Eddy chuckles lightly at that, flipping Kevin the bird. He reaches over to pat him harshly on the back before hoping off the crate he’d been perched on, striding a few paces over toward Franky, calling out to Kevin as he moves.

“Don’t need to tell me _that_ twice. Have a good time making really bad decisions, alright?"

(nothing _wrong_ with the **choices** I **_make_** )

- ** _forever_** -

Kevin squeezes one hand into a fist, watching the tape expand around his joints, stretching to accommodate the movement.

(this is _fine_ )

Kevin closes his eyes against the thunderous applause filtering through the curtain, the sound slightly muted.

(not the **way** )

Though, the building is so small, he can feel the noise more than he can hear it.

- _yes, it **is**_ -

It feels like an earthquake, reverberating around him. Shaking the tiny gym from the foundation up.

( _ **wait**_ )

He breathes in, to a sharp slapping sound.

- _all for **nothing**_ -

He breathes out, to the **third** palm strike to the mat.

(oh)

Fuck.

He waits, letting the stillness of the moment wash over him. Time seems to still, waiting in hushed silence along with the wrestlers in the room and the breathless crowd around them.

( **hold on** )

It all comes rushing back in an instant. One minute everything is deathly still, the next it’s all just noise, erupting like the audience out of their seats.

It is one loud, long, well earned victory scream. Kevin listens to it as it dances around him, drinks in the excitement and the relief and the gratitude.

(well)

Kevin clasps his fingers together, bowing his head over his intertwined fingers, like he's praying to a god that wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Phantom feelings of warmth roll over him, like the idiot is radiating sunlight by shear virtue of his own delight.

- _shit_ -

Kevin closes his eyes briefly against the tightness in his chest, fighting down the **urge** to-

(don’t even fucking _know_ anymore)

He has to do **_something_**.

- _anything_ -

( _ **everything**_ )

“What the fuck? You didn’t want to watch anymore so back off-!"

Kevin glances briefly at Beef, giving him one last sneer before shoving him firmly, enjoying the small pang of relief as the moron goes staggering off to the side, clutching his injured ribs.

The doorway now unblocked, Kevin walks forward, tossing the curtain to the side, listening to the satisfying tearing sound as the thin fabric gives way under his harsh treatment.

(god they are **loud** )

- ** _joy_** -

(let’s **fix** that)

Kevin moves forward, feeling a thrill as the crowd sees him and becomes noticeably confused for a heartbeat.

Kevin can't help the snarl that curls across his face as he takes in that shocked look peering out at him from beneath the **_lie_**.

He **_inhales_**.

In ring chemistry is an odd thing.

( _complicated_ )

- ** _forever_** -

No one really **knows** what it is.

(or how to _**get** _ it)

- ** _need_** -

Kevin thinks it’s stupid to worry about _that_ shit.

(doesn’t **really** matter)

- ** _everything_** -

Kevin prefers the simple things in life.

(less confusing)

Like **_this_**.

The metal is cool beneath his hands.

(the reflection never looks _right_ )

- _they look so **uncertain**_ -

Doesn’t **matter**.

One thing is for **_sure_**.

No one will be confused about **_this_**.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, believe it or not, I do know how to paragraph. I can paragraph just fine. My paragraphs are amazing. Mostly. Sometimes.
> 
> This series is stylized, alright T.T
> 
> Anyhoo, antics aside, I'm kinda proud of this hot mess. Kevin is a precious train wreck who wouldn't know what to do with his emotions if he had a step-by-step guide to grown-upping on hand at all times and a coach to talk him through each action. Poor bby.
> 
> Hmm, I just realized I haven't done a timeline update in a while. Which might make the whole 'guess-what-moment-in-their-careers-this-is' thing kind of difficult. Oops. If it helps any, we are still in 2004, in this particular fic. We will be in 2004 for a while yet.
> 
> Stay tuned for a new addition to the cast in the next fic! And no, it's probably not the one you're thinking of. It's not even the one **_I_** assumed would pop up next ^.^


End file.
